In the ARMSS of theee ANGGGEELLLS…

Dean's cell phone awoke him at two o'clock in the morning, Sarah McLachlan's grating voice blaring from his bedside table. Sam's hilarious mission to find Dean the most embarrassing angel-related ringtone out there had Dean answering his phone with a snappish bark.

"You better not be calling for another philosophical religion debate, Cas." An anxious huff sounded across the line, and Dean's irritation softened.

"What's up, angel?"

"I can hear a vehicle approaching Dean," said a decidedly nervous angel, "We weren't expecting any customers, and I fear this may involve…talking to people."

"You know the policies, man," Dean encouraged, "You can handle it."

"I can sense their aura," Castiel insisted, "They seem very impatient…and feisty."

Dean yawned, hearing a pop in his shoulder as he stretched that told him he was probably getting a little too old for this shit. But that's what you get when you're tryin' to help an angel tip toe his way into humanity.

"Alright you big sissy," Dean said at last, "Let me get Sam up and we'll meet you down there."

"Okay," Castiel agreed, relieved, "I'll see you soon."

"Yeah." Dean hung up the phone and began feeling around for clothes in the dark of his room. Cas had already stolen his Zeppelin shirt, so Dean made do with ACDC, yawning again as he knocked on Sam's door.

Dean heard soft voices from inside his brother's room.

"You two decent?" he rumbled, "Cas is having his first customer relations crisis and I need Sam."

"He's an Angel of the fucking Lord," came the muffled reply, "He can't handle it by now?"

"C'mon man, I need your help," Dean whined, "You know my night driving is shit ever since Raphael."

Dean heard the tinkling of Tamara's laughter amid Sam's grumbling about "…martyr brothers who face down freakin' archangels…" before the door opened and Sam emerged, rumpled but dressed.

"Nice hair," Dean joked before leaning his head inside, "Hey Tamara. When'd your plane get in?"

"Just a few hours ago," Tamara said, waving from the nest on blankets on his brother's bed, "Making a quick 'stop over' before I head right back out. 'M trying to convince your brother to come this time. Greece. Could make a nice weekend holiday." Tamara leered at Sam, who blushed furiously as Dean laughed.

"Well he's a stubborn son of a bitch, but I'll work on 'im for ya," Dean promised before reluctantly tossing Sam the keys to the Impala and dragging him down to the garage. Between the lightning and the Grace, Dean's vision had actually been a lasting casualty of him and Castiel's showdown with Raphael. He wasn't blind or anything, but he wouldn't be driving down any dark desert highways anytime soon. Secretly, at Castiel's suggestion, he'd gotten himself a pair of reading glasses for paperwork at the office, though if Cas ever mentioned it to Sam Dean swore he'd make him wish God had never brought him back.

The drive is short and in no time Sam and Dean are stepping through the jingling front door to see Castiel attempting to face down a very impatient and very feisty Jo Harvelle.

"Joanna Beth," Dean exclaimed, "How long's it been?"

"Hey losers," Jo greeted them both with a quick kiss, "I hear tell y'all blew all our stuff to kingdom come."

"Hey, we saved the freakin' world," Dean countered, ruffling her long blonde hair with affection, "We don't need your sass."

"Well I need to make sure you guys didn't release thirty or so cursed knick knacks onto the unsuspecting world," Jo continued, throwing a thumb over her shoulder at an affronted Castiel, "And your new guy ain't much help."

"He's new," Dean informed her with a wink thrown in Cas' direction, "And for your information, Jo, we seal all the dangerous stuff when we go on lockdown. So you can't have 'em for eighteen months, but you can tell your mom your lockboxes are all safe and sound."

"Half those boxes I got huntin' solo mister, and don't you forget it," Jo scowled, before making a considering face, "Speaking of which, you guys got any open Level A's? I got a little stuff of my own that I don't have space for at the Roadhouse."

"Leaving the nest already?" Sam asked with a grin, "What's Ellen gonna say?"

"What Mom doesn't know won't hurt her," Jo smirked back, "You gonna set me up or not?"

Dean leaned against the desk next to Cas while Sam got all the necessary forms for Jo to sign.

"Pay attention," Dean warned, nudging the angel with his shoulder, "You're on your own next time."

"Fear not," Castiel assured him, dark eyes mischievous, "My attentions are extremely focused." A stealthy hand slipped under Dean's jacket, and he tried not to wriggle as Castiel's fingers tickled at the notches of his spine, teasing at the elastic band of his boxers before slipping into Dean's back pocket possessively.

"You know," Dean pointed out quietly, "This workplace would be a lot more professional if you'd quit groping my ass."

"I disagree," Castiel whispered in his ear, palming even more blatantly over the denim covered curve of Dean's backside. In situations like these, Dean had to yield to his angel's wisdom.

Sam might be goin' away for the weekend, Dean murmured, a hand looping around the bare skin of Castiel's wrist, tapping into their psychic radio, Tomorrow night you wanna maybe…

Make love on the coffee table? Castiel supplied, expression deceivingly aloof, That sounds agreeable.

"When you two are done makin' eyes at each other," Jo spoke up, "I could use a hand unloading some of this crap."

"Yeah," Dean's voice came out as a rough squeak. "I mean, yeah, I can help. Cas, you got the office?"

"Yes Dean," came the innocent reply, "I will 'man the phone'."

Dean went to follow Jo and Sam out to the parking lot, the jingle of the door bell not quite loud enough to mask Dean's yelp as Cas landed a firm smack on his ass. Sam raised his eyebrows as Dean turned to find Castiel already back in the desk chair, a smile playing at his lips as he flipped absently through a book on Greek runes. Dean shook his head with a grin, and followed his curious brother outside. Angels, man.